Project Boussh: Complications
by Policrat'

"We have to go back for her!" Vickie repeated. "And for Brad."

"No," Wedge Antilles told her. "Please."

"You don't want us to get hurt because we're just Terra Groupies?" she
countered sarcastically. "Or do you just think the *girls* can't manage it?"

"No," Wedge said again. "You and Quiara stick out aboard this ship like
Wookies in a Jawa clan. I can't imagine there are more than a few hundred
women in the crew, and all of them wear uniforms, and have regulation
crew-cuts. Major Ilo can get away with it because she's six foot two, she's
disguised as a stormtrooper, and she has McEwok here to frown at anyone who
starts asking questions. But you can't. I'm sorry."

"So we just _leave_?"

"I want the two of you to get to Mendellia and tell Tycho what we're up
against," he said. "And that's an order, Jedi Boyd. I'm staying here with
McEwok and Plourr. We'll find Dorset. And Brad, if we can. We'll get them
out of here."

Plourr coughed. "General, heroes of the Rebellion aren't exactly a dozen a
dactari aboard Imperial Star Destroyers either. Respectfully, sir."

"She's right," McEwok said, before Wedge could answer. "And your men need
you. Maybe not the Rogues and the Wraiths, but the Terras, and the two
squadrons aboard that dreadnaught. When _Inexorable_ and _Intendant_ show
up, you'll be outnumbered three to one. They need to know you're there."

Wedge frowned. "I'm just a man. A good pilot, maybe, but don't confuse me
with the legend. Or the farmboy."

"Ask Kristy about the TAWG when we get back to Mendellia," Vickie smiled,
taking him by the arm and guiding him towards the TIEs in their launch
racks. "You belong in the cockpit. McEwok and Plouur are the ones who can do
the best job here. You pretty much said so yourself."